


Chasing a Dream

by goldtoashes, heirsofbrokenlegacies (jarofhearts)



Series: Making the most of loving you [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fingon Has a Crush, Fingon Is Still a Child, Fluff, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Slash, Years of the Trees, maedhros has issues, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtoashes/pseuds/goldtoashes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/heirsofbrokenlegacies
Summary: Little Findekáno cannot sleep and visits Maitimo late at night. His cousin, however, has worries of his own.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: Making the most of loving you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034202
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	Chasing a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> A brief word on our headcanon regarding LaCE:  
> Elves are monogamous and bond with one partner for life. They intuitively know which partners are right for them to marry and feel drawn to them. However, they can experience physical desire outside of marriage and it is not unusal for young elves to experiment prior to choosing a partner they wish spend their lives with. While a marriage bond is always formed in a moment of physical intimacy, "just" having sex is not enough to get married/bonded. There has to be intent from both sides. 
> 
> Important: While this story has Maedhros going through "teenage" sexuality issues, there's nothing sexual going on between him and Fingon (who's still a kid in this story).

Sleep would not come easy that night.

Telperion’s soft silver light was filtering through the large, arched windows. The soft, muted sounds of the celebration still going on downstairs inside the palace were sometimes carried to my ears on a mild breeze that stirred the sheer curtains of the guest room from time to time. It would not stop until Telperion’s light faded into Laurelin’s much, much later, I was sure. Yet I had not wanted to linger amongst the other elves visiting my grandfather’s palace, had not felt like taking part in the music, the singing or dancing any longer, nor in the constant smiles and talks and attentions.

Yet instead of sleeping, my gaze was on the open sky outside, never fully dark thanks to Telperion’s pale silver light, unable to truly relax, unable to stop the cycle of thoughts.

The sound of soft footsteps, naked feet on cold marble, reached my ears. At first I thought of Tyelko, frightened by some bad dream, but the footsteps were far too hesitant for my impetuous little brother.

“Nelyo?”

I turned around and raised my head, the quiet voice already having given away my oldest, yet still quite little cousin. He did not look as though he had slept yet either, eyes wide awake as they shone in Telperion’s light.

“What is it, Fin?”

“Uhm.” There was clearly something that was troubling him. “Are you sleeping?”

Instantly, I felt the corners of my lips curl up in a smile, something soft and warm reaching right into my heart.

“I am not in the habit of talking in my sleep. Come on,” I added, patting the bed next to me. “Remember how I said you don’t need to wait for an invitation?”

If my little brothers never had, I did not see why my cousin should. Though he was much more polite about it even at his age.

I hoped it was not for fear of rejection.

He gave me a short, relieved smile and came over, dropping down onto the bed beside me. But he was lacking his usual eagerness and there was something untypically cautious about his movements. As if all of a sudden, he didn’t know his way around me anymore, or didn’t know how I would react to whatever it was that was on his mind.

It had me worried a little. But before asking about it, I tucked the blanket up so that it covered us both, turning towards him and propping my head up against my hand to be able to watch his face. Usually, I would have wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drawn him in against my side, and I was certain that he either very much wanted it right now, or very much did not. I would hopefully find out fast which one it was, but until then, I would hold off.

“You have not slept yet, have you?”

“Hmm.” He shook his head wildly. “No…”

No surprise there, of course. “And do you want to tell me why not?”

“I have…” he started, avoiding my gaze and chewing on his lower lip. When he finally spit out what was apparently bothering him, it came out more like a mumble than an actual question. “… think I’m stupid?”

I felt honest surprise at his words, closely followed by sympathy and dismay.

“Fin…”

I reached out carefully to slip my finger under his chin, gently tipping his head up so he would look at me.

“You are many things, but stupid is  _ not  _ one of them.”

He looked relieved, though still a little bashful. “But Tyelko said -”

“Tyelko?” I frowned, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears, encouraged by the look of relief on his face. Now what had come out of my temperamental little brother’s mouth this time? “He said what?”

“He said… that Uncle Fëanáro said that I’m a stupid brat,” he muttered unhappily. “And that everybody else would think so, too. So I was wondering whether you…”

“Oh Fin…”

I did not hesitate anymore, slid closer and wrapped my arm around him, gently pulling him in. Unfortunately, I could imagine my father saying this as much as Tyelko repeating it to our young cousin. Either way, it did not help the heavy thoughts that had been circling in my mind before.

With a small sigh, I pressed a light kiss to his hair.

“I promise you, everyone else does not think so. What  _ I  _ think is that you’re one of the brightest, kindest and most fun elves I know.”

The small body in my arms was relaxing as he wrapped his own around my waist, getting comfortable. “Really?” he muttered against my shoulder and I reached to tuck the blanket back around him as it fell down with his motion.

“Would I lie to you? Hm?”

“No,” he replied without hesitating. It was obvious that what had troubled him most was the thought that I could hold a negative opinion about him, I realized, but hid my smile for now. He did not seem willing to give up the issue just yet.

“But… why did my uncle say that I was stupid, then?”

The reason, of course, had everything to do with Ñolofinwë, and with Fin only by extension. Yet the reply I gave him was no less true.

“Your uncle thinks nearly everyone is stupid. So you’re not that special.” This time I did smile as I nudged him lightly, trying to lighten his mood.

“Everyone?” he asked, still a little doubtful. “He wouldn’t think so about  _ you. _ Would he?”

“Oh, I’m  _ sure  _ he already has,” I replied without hesitation, again truthfully, a queasy feeling stirring in the pit of my stomach.

I had only just made my peace with the fact that I would never be as good, as instinctive and ingenious in the forge as he was, that I would never be able to fulfill his hopes and expectations there. And now, more recently, a different kind of worry had started to eat away at me, one that was less based on the disappointment of a child and more on the worries of an adult.

_ Not now _ , I told myself and brushed my hand over his hair.

“You’re  _ not  _ stupid, Nelyo,” Fin insisted, his words filled with indignation, clinging a little tighter to me as if to prove his point. “If Uncle Fëanáro thinks so, then  _ he’s _ a stupid oaf.”

I didn’t manage to suppress my choked, half horrified laugh fast enough, instantly trying not to think about my father’s reaction to  _ that _ .

“I appreciate your confidence. But please don’t call anyone a stupid oaf.”

I heard him chuckle against my shoulder. “Sorry,” he said, sounding completely unapologetic, which made me huff and tug reproachfully on one of his braids.

“Don’t, Findekáno. No one is stupid. Every one of us is simply gifted in their own area.”

“Alright,” he gave in and sighed a little. Then, after a short pause, he asked completely out of the blue, “Is Nórimo gifted in kissing?”

That, well and truly, was not something I had expected. My heart made a strange, stumbling thump in my chest and, to my own embarrassment, I could feel heat rising to the back of my neck.

Varda, how to answer this?

“You… saw, did you not,” I finally said, carefully choosing each word and wishing I could see his face.

“Mhm.” It came hesitantly and I sensed that there was more that was troubling him than just my father’s comment. “Tyelko and I fought and then I went looking for you.”

For a moment, I did not know at all what to say. I nearly apologized, but stopped myself when I realized that it was an instinctive reaction that had more to do with my worries than with my young cousin, even though he seemed bothered about what he had seen.

Of course I had not intended for anyone to see us where we had retreated into an alcove several corridors away from the festivities. It meant too much explaining that I did not feel prepared to do, when I had not fully sorted all my thoughts and feelings myself.

Maybe Fin and I could help each other here, it occured to me, and so I finally spoke.

“Is whether Nórimo is gifted in kissing the only thing you want to know? Or what is it that’s bothering you?”

Fin was silent for an untypically long moment, apparently contemplating the question, before he asked softly, “Do you… love him?”

One of the most important questions, certainly, but at least in this, I was reasonably certain. Fin certainly did not seem to be very happy about this possibility, and a small smile flickered over my lips as I brushed my hand over his hair once more.

“No, little one. We  _ like  _ each other. But there is no bond, and there won’t be.”

“Oh, good,” he burst out impulsively, clapping his hand over his mouth the next moment and giving me an apologetic look. A reaction that let my eyebrows rise and a soft puzzled laugh escape me.

“Is it?”

“Mhm hmm.” He made some absolutely unintelligible noises, burying his face at my shoulder again. “You should -”

“I should what?” I asked, curious now, when his sentence tapered off into nothing. He mumbled something with the word “better” that my ears could impossibly pick up, so I gently nudged his side.

“What was that?”

“I said, you deserve someone better,” he replied only a little louder, and I did not know whether to feel amused, touched, or indignant on Nórimo’s behalf.

Then another thought occurred to me, one that stirred those same worries that had been plaguing me. And suddenly I was scared that even my young, sweet cousin was thinking the same.

I should not have said what I did then, should not have projected those worries onto him, yet it was out before I had the chance to hold it back.

“Do you mean someone who is not a nér?”

He raised his head and gave me a slightly confused look. “No, just someone… who really loves you. Someone who makes you  _ happy _ . You don’t look happy.”

The words were like a blow to the chest that left me speechless. I could do nothing but curl my arm around his small shoulders a little tighter and press a kiss to his hair, wondering if he could really look so deeply into my heart.

I was not…  _ unhappy _ , in the broad sense of the term. Yet Nórimo and the kisses we had shared in that alcove had solidified what I had already started to suspect for a few years. Even though there was only a weak tug in my chest of where the beginnings of a bond might have been, he still had made me feel more enjoyment, more desire, more lust than I had even began to experience with Lissiël, or Fëalehta.

How was I supposed to have children of my own one day? The one thing that had been so important to my grandfather that he had asked and been granted the unthinkable in remarrying, the thing so important in my father’s eyes that it had been one of the first I could remember him telling me. A family. Children to teach, to carry your values and share your talents, support and loyalty and  _ trust no one like your own, anyone who isn’t us… _

I had been lost in my thoughts so deeply that I almost completely overheard when Fin said my name, and only reacted when he said it again, louder and with more urgency, a small hand gently pressing to my cheek. 

“Nelyo… I don’t want you to be sad.”

I had no chance in the face of the earnestness and worry in those large grey blue eyes, my chest flooding with an unexpected warmth, love for my cousin, gratefulness, appreciation.

It was enough to bring a small smile back to my lips, and I covered his hand my own, turned my head and pressed a soft kiss against his palm.

“You being here is making it better,” I said softly, only half surprised that it was the utter truth.

Fin chuckled happily. “Can I sleep here tonight? In your bed?”

“Of course you can.”

He would not be the only one feeling better for it, I was sure.

The next moment, I felt his arms wrapping around my neck and his warm mouth pressing against mine in an affectionate smack. “Thank you!”

My arms came up around his back to hold him, and I smiled, his pure, uncomplicated love making space in my chest and curling up right there to keep warming me.

“Thank you too, Fin.”

His troubles visibly having been eased, he readily settled under the covers with me, curled close against my side as I adjusted the blanket around us both. It did not take long at all until his eyes glazed over, and by the time they drifted shut, Irmo was finally claiming me as well.


End file.
